


All the Time in the World

by Karios



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Episode Tag, Gen, Immortality, Post-Episode: s09e05 The Girl Who Died
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-31 03:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12667332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: The Doctor collected three mire repair kits, not two. Ashildr wasn't the only immortal facing eternity alone.





	All the Time in the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silvertrails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/gifts).



> Who requested an intelligent conversation featuring Jack.

Jack was angry. It radiated off him like the fog off Cardiff Bay. It hurt him just to be here, the Doctor realised, only too late to do anything about it. He wondered exactly when this was for the Captain. It was impossible to tell, his timeline so tangled and backcrossed, and tainted by its permanence. Still the Doctor permitted himself to wonder, what or who had caused pain like that. Considering what he was here for, perhaps it was just as well. Mentally he sorted through Clara's social cue cards. “I'm glad you came.”

“Morning, Doctor,” Jack replied, his greeting as stiff as his posture. Hands folded behind his back, standing at attention. So he'd gotten the reluctant soldier version of Jack.

“You recognize me. Wasn't sure you would, been a problem for this face.” The Doctor shot Jack a skeletal smile.

It wasn't returned. “Cryptic messages. Big blue box. All pretty familiar.”

The Doctor stepped to one side, and turned toward the TARDIS. “Care to come in, Captain? Not a trip, unless you want one?”

Jack wordlessly trudged inside, forcing the Doctor to keep up the one-sided conversation, as the immortal took a look around.

“We’ve redecorated, bit of a throwback, but I think it suits me. I'm a fan of chalk now. I got a guitar and brought some of the books out here.” He indicated the board, the instrument, and shelving in turn.

Jack hummed non-committally. “I was looking for the companion. Or are you alone again?”

“Clara’s not here. She's part time. And still grieving someone.”

“Never stopped me before. Ask my team.” Not that he could now, Jack thought bitterly.

“Jack...”

“Well, if you're not here to bring me a consolation prize-”

“I owed him, not you,” the Doctor returned, surprised either of them remembered Alonso at all.

Jack continued as though the Doctor hadn't spoken. “And you don't appear to be dying.”

“Not unless someone forgot to tell me.” The Doctor chuckled lightly.

“Then, why are you here?”

“I brought you a different kind of present.” The Doctor fished several items out of his pockets. Setting various detritus on the console for inspection—a few coins, a whistle, a yo-yo, a bag of sweets—ultimately he tossed a tightly wound bundle to Jack underhand.

Jack examined the object. From even a short distance, it looked like some kind of skin, veined and crackled, like an unpolished scrap of leather. But the heft was wrong and the texture was off as well. It radiated an unnerving warmth.

“You can open it, just don't put it on your face,” advised the Time Lord. “I would hate to waste it.”

Jack unwrapped the bundle, and the cream-colored chip tumbled onto his palm. He peered at it, tracking a thumb over the network of ebony lines. “I give up. What is it?”

“A bit of technology, from the Mire race. They’re warriors, like the Sontarans, but without the belief in honor. Prey on whatever they can easily crush.”

Jack interrupted. “Underwhelming for a weapon, it's the size of a postage stamp.”

The Doctor scoffed. “Don't act like a pudding-brain. I wouldn't bring you a weapon, not in this face or any other. The Mire call it a repair kit. It patches them up for the next fight.”

“Still not following, Doctor. Why'd you bring it to me?”

“In humans, it grants immortality. Much like your own.”

Jack held it out at the furthest arm’s length he could muster, glancing between the chip, and the Doctor’s face and back in quick succession. “No.”

“What?” The Doctor’s face fell.

“Not now, not ever, no. I don't want it. Take it back.” Jack had looked less repulsed carrying around a severed head. The Doctor would know...there was that time in Japan.

“I heard you. I want to understand why...you're refusing.” The Doctor’s brows knit together.

Jack, meanwhile, rewrapped the chip and set it on the console. “I need a drink,” he announced, and headed off.

“The kitchen,” the Doctor began, just before the rooms shifted, “is being helpfully moved to wherever you want it.”

“Thank you,” Jack directed at the TARDIS. Otherwise they were silent. Jack found bottles and a glass in the first cupboard he checked. He poured himself a glass of one amber coloured liquid, then poured a second sample of another and downed them both.

Steadied, Jack joined the Doctor, who’d taken a seat at the table.

“Look, I know I seem ungrateful.”

“Really? Hadn't noticed myself,” snipped the Doctor.

Jack held up a hand to stop further argument. “I'm just...not sure I’ve earned the right. It's...” He’d almost said playing god, but he knew Death; it was more complicated than that. “-a responsibility,” he finished weakly.

“I’d hope you wouldn't make it a unilateral decision. You’d choose someone special, with their full informed consent.”

“Can anyone really, truly consent to eternity?”

“No,” conceded the Doctor, “but you're there to help judge. More than you got yourself. Or I did, for that matter.” The Time Lord got up to make tea, giving Jack a moment with his thoughts.

“Would you have chosen me?” Jack asked, swiveling to watch the Doctor put the kettle on.

“I'm not disappointed with how that turned out,” the Doctor answered instead, as he fetched mugs.

He poured and set a mug in front each of them. It was awkwardly domestic without an ordinary human to justify it. But Jack was grateful all the same.

“Do you know something I don't?” Jack asked after several moments staring into the steaming liquid as though it held the answers.

“Plenty of things. Old High Gallifreyan, my birthday, but not my favourite bubble bath. I'm still working that out.” The Doctor tapped one of his temples and smiled into his mug.

Jack ground his teeth together. “Doctor, this is serious. Is there someone specific I'm supposed to ‘repair’, or not?”

The Doctor shook his head. “It’s not that complicated, Jack. Surely, you must have known someone you wanted to keep. Consider it an ultimate undo button. If it helps, I’ve already done it, to a Viking girl I failed to save.”

Jack startled, truly paying attention now. “How did that turn out?”

“I haven't checked yet. Came here first.”

Jack considered all the kinds of immortality he had known. His own, yes, but there was so much more. Angelo, who had dedicated his life to trying to follow Jack into forever. Owen's brief tenure as the King of Death. Tommy, who had lived decades into his own future only to die as he'd been intended to from the beginning. Estelle and her fairies, who offered eternity at a cost. Suzie, who'd been willing to kill Gwen for a chance at revenge and a round two at life. Even John, Diane, and Emma, pulled unfairly from their mundane lives into an alien future. Immortality tore good people apart, and made monsters of the rest. 

Jack shook his head, clearing out the cobwebs of bad memories. “If this whole miserable experience has taught me anything, it's that people are meant for their own time and their own place.”

“Then file the kit away in your vault and I'll drop you off on the Boeshane Peninsula in 3000 years time. Or, did you mean everyone but you?” rebuked the Doctor. Setting his mug in the sink, he didn't wait for an answer.

Jack followed suit and caught up to the Doctor already halfway to the console. “If I ever do use it, I expect you to come by and say hello.”

“I believe the TARDIS says it's a date.” The Doctor smiled again. “Now then, I’ve got another immortal to drop in on. And you’ve a decision to make.”

“And only forever to decide.” Jack pocketed the chip carefully.

The Doctor flung the doors open. Sunlight streamed through the opening. "Look at that, a new day."

Jack squinted toward the golden light. "I can't remember the last time I really paid attention."

"Find someone who does," the Doctor suggested. Jack headed down the ramp, lingering in the doorway. "You've got plenty of time."


End file.
